Modern dance/belly dance fusion by The Power Company of Columbia College and Natalie Brown, director of Delirium Tribal Belly Dance Company, with live music by Raquy and the Cavemen:

Modern dance fusion by Urban Tribal Dance Company:

Professor Donna Mejia at TribalCon, performing her impeccable blend of belly dance and… everything. (Embedding disabled, click the link!)

Brittney Laleh’s hip hop/contemporary/belly dance fusion, performed with the Suhaila Salimpour Repertoire Ensemble:

Colleena Shakti’s flawless classical Indian-belly dance fusion:

Sera Solstice performing her blend of belly dance, modern, contemporary… with a touch of martial arts.

Theatrical fusion by Anasma of New York City:

The one and only Ebony of Washington, DC, performing her urban fusion style:

Shakra’s industrial, African, bellydance, gothic fusion:

…that’s just a small list of fusion that I like. These dancers know what they’re doing, respect the cultures and subcultures from which they pull, and they create with integrity.

In the world of tribal fusion belly dance, dancers have been taking every possible dance form and trying to “fuse” it with tribal style belly dance, or at least with belly dance.  I’m not sure why, but I suspect that most of this fusion is driven by a desire to come up with the next “new cool thing.”  (Of course, I could be totally wrong!)  We, as tribal and fusion dancers, almost take it for granted that we can take any other dance form in the world, mush it into a choreography, and present it at a fusion dance festival or show.  But what if we took our fusions to the dance communities from which we are pulling?

Because, I have to say it: Many fusions I’m seeing aren’t well-researched, deeply-studied, or solid… and I wonder why some are created in the first place because they just don’t seem to fit together well.  Some fusions I’ve seen are like watching a fish trying to ride a bicycle; sure it would be a cool sight to see, but why even try?

There.  I said it.  Sue me.

What if we took a half-assed fusion of, say, Hawaiian hula and belly dance and took it to a respected hula festival?  What if we took our “interpretations” of Indian classical dance and showed them to an audience of respected Indian gurus?  What if we took our strange blend of vaudeville, cabaret, and vintage dance and performed it for an audience of true stage performers and actors?  I might be going out on a limb here, but I suspect that those communities would react in several ways: They would probably be offended, confused, and might respect our already ill-respected belly dance community even less.  They might ask, “what on Earth do they think they’re doing?” They might also laugh at us.  (And this is not to say that all fusion is bad fusion.  There are some remarkable blends of belly dance with other world and Western dance forms.)

I’m not sure what the solution or approach is to mitigating this issue.  I understand that as artists we reserve the right to experiment, play, and try new things.  I’m not calling on people to stop having fun.  I am, of course, a fusion dancer: I consider my primary fusions to be tribal belly dance, oriental belly dance, and a bit of modern club dancing.  I’m currently in an ATS basics class; dancing regularly with two amazing breakdancers; and continuing my study of oriental dance, music, and culture. And I will say this: my fusion has been a completely organic process.  I haven’t tried to force any sort of styling into my dance for the sake of being “cool”, “different”, or to gain attention from the wider belly dance community.  And I’m not saying that all fusionists blend dance styles just to get noticed, but that certainly does happen.

I’ve been saying this for a while: there are some fusions that work and others that don’t.  To put it another way, peanut butter and chocolate might not appeal to everyone, but for the most part, it’s a really good blend of flavors.  Peanut butter and anchovies, though?  I’m not sure that’s a fusion we really need to have.

We have a responsibility to truly respect the cultures from which we are pulling when we fuse.  What I feel like I’m seeing in this community is a lot of, “Oh that’s cool! Let’s blend that with belly dance!” and not much more consideration before putting that new fusion on a stage.  Maybe, just for a moment, think of how members of that community from which you are pulling will react to your fusion.  Will they ask, “What on Earth are you DOING??” or will they compliment you for your tasteful blend of something that’s near and dear to their hearts with something that’s near and dear to yours?

Ahh, yes, it’s true.  When the “big names” in the tribal fusion community, such as Zoe Jakes and Rachel Brice, start dancing to classical Arabic music, the deal is sealed.  Cabaret is back.

A few years ago, cabaret blended with tribal was called “tribaret”.  It sort of went out of fashion for a while, but in the past year or so, it has returned under the moniker of “tribal fusion”.  Tribaret was always there, but it was always quiet…  it is getting louder all the time.

Cabaret, however, is still a dirty word to many a tribal fusion and tribal style dancer.  “Oh, I could never wear those costumes or dance to that kind of music,” they say.  “I’m just not a beads and sequins kind of girl”, they say.  Well, you don’t have to be, but it seems that the “tribal fusion” community is fusing a lot more classic oriental style raqs sharqi into their performances.

Seriously.  Several years ago I was guilty of trying to expunge any hint of oriental from my dancing until I realized that it’s just not possible. I started in primarily oriental-style belly dance, and I started learning American Tribal Style and tribal-inspired styles later.  Naturally, oriental started becoming more prominent in my own dancing.  It’s always been there, but I am certainly embracing it more than I have in the past.  Why hide what is a huge part of my own training, especially if it comes to me instinctively as I dance?

Thank the GAWDS.

Why am I thankful?  Maybe younger and newer dancers who are want to learn belly dance because they idolize or look up to these performers will start seeking out Middle Eastern music.  Maybe they’ll start to want to learn classical styles of belly dance.  Maybe they’ll start to read about Umm Kalthoum, Samia Gamal, and Tahia Karioka.  Maybe they’ll actually go take from instructors and dancers who specialize in oriental.  Maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of the end of the artificial and ridiculous separation of the two camps after more than 2 decades of animosity.

Of course, this could just be a dream of mine.

I leave you with a few performances of “tribal” style dancers performing to oriental music with pronounced oriental stylization in their movements.  We are the new face of tribaret.

And let me remind you all that without cabaret belly dance, there would be no tribal style belly dance.

Zoe Jakes performs to a classic Egyptian baladi song:

Rachel Brice performs a classic drum solo with an Arab drummer

And in a moment of egotism, me performing to Umm Kalthoum’s “Lissa Fakir” with the Casablanca Band.  The video is a little squished from top to bottom, making me look even shorter… I couldn’t figure out how to fix that.

The term “tribal” means myriad things to myriad people.  “Tribal” can be a specific term, referring to a specific ethnic tribe of peoples, such as the Lakota Sioux native Americans, or the Tuareg nomads of North Africa.  “Tribal” can also be more of a loose idea, evoking images of prehistoric man living in a time before agriculture, guns, or industry.  The word “tribal” also conjures images of “savages”, peoples living in areas and times before electricity, before factories, before monotheism; Europeans and Americans have romanticized and exploited this imagery for hundreds of years.

So, many people come to this dance, this dance which we call “tribal style belly dance”, with an idea of what “tribal” means to them… and most of the time, their idea of “tribal” doesn’t really include belly dance. In fact, I’m sure a lot of them wonder, “what does ‘tribal’ have to do with belly dance, anyway?” And I know some of them ask, “What tribe?”

So, when we say “American Tribal Style Belly Dance”, what images are we evoking in the minds of the uninitiated? And what does “American Tribal” mean to someone who isn’t American or who isn’t familiar with American history and folk culture?

The words “American Tribal” to those outside the belly dance world probably will evoke images of Native American Indians on the Great Plains of North America, hunting bison on horseback, feathers in their hair, and other stereotypical ideas of how pre-European cultures lived on this continent. Furthermore, if a dancer outside the United States searched “American Tribal” on eBay, what items are retrieved?

When in Europe, I saw several costumes that incorporated Native American dream catchers on belts and hair ornaments. My initial thought was, “OK, that’s strange”, but then when I thought a bit more, I realized, “well, if you search ‘American Tribal dance’” on eBay, that’s an item that might come up.” As I think about this incorporation of Native American elements into tribal fusion belly dance costuming, I realize that I’ve seen more than just dream catchers, but leathers that look like buck skin, headdresses that are clearly inspired by the Great Plains Indians’ warbonnets, and other American Indian-looking items.

It made me think about what we’re saying as dancers when we incorporate not only Middle Eastern and South Asian tribal elements into our costuming but also Native American costuming elements. And it also made me wonder if these European dancers even know that the dream catcher, although it is an authentic tribal item, is not usually a part of the American Tribal Style Belly Dance costume. I suspect this is mostly because it is a Native American tribal item and might, at least in the United States, offend Native Americans who might be watching our performances. And why would a European dancer care that she’s wearing a Native American folk art? She might not know it’s an American craft, and furthermore, she might not have even been to the United States at all.

After all of this pontificating, rambling, and ruminating, I think I’ve concluded, at least temporarily, this: As dancers, we need to educate ourselves about the ethnic items that we choose to wear. Our costumes are the first things that our audiences see, and if the audience includes members of the General Public, then we need to pay even more attention to how we adorn ourselves. Just because something is listed as “tribal” on eBay, that doesn’t give us fair license to sew it on to our belts. Lack of curiosity is no excuse for ignorance. And I’m not saying that we shouldn’t blend tribal elements in our costuming; it’s these ethnic items that make the tribal style costume so rich and beautiful! What I am saying is that you, dear dancers, have a responsibility to know where your costuming elements come from, what they represent, and what images they might conjure in your audiences imaginations.

Each belly dancer represents all of us. What are we saying about our community if we don’t even know the meaning of what we’re wearing?

Recently, I’ve seen a few performances that seemed to be more about the dancer showing off a series of “tricks” than actually dancing, expressing, and emoting.  You know those performances… the one where the layback/backbend into a drop is gratuitously placed in the set, or the dancer does several drops in one performance (and I’m not talking about FatChanceBellyDance, or the other master dancers).  Or the one where the dancer is ticking, locking, and popping all over the place, but lacks any sense of expression or grace.  Or the one where the dancer shimmies her way through a 10 minute set when she could be accenting her very interesting music in very beautiful ways. So, you can move your body in fascinating ways, but what about that makes you a dancer and not a contortionist, acrobat, or just another entertainer?

Now, I’m certainly not saying that a dancer shouldn’t have a few tricks up her sleeve.  I love showing off my backbends, belly flutters, and shimmies. Those moves are crowd pleasers, and I’m totally aware of that.  As dancers we also must entertain, and frankly, it’s fun to show off our tricks.  But when the performance becomes all about the tricks and less about the dance, then I begin to wonder, “who is this dancer? What does she have to say? And why isn’t she showing us what’s really inside her?”

I think the use of tricks indicates a few things about the dancer: She’s afraid to dance as herself, and she’s hiding behind her “Wow Factor”; she’s not aware that dance can be an emotional outlet as well as a physical one; she believes that the tricks will gain her more recognition, praise, and attention (which, sadly, is often true).  What really bothers me is that after seeing a performance composed mostly of tricks, there will be a host of audience members lavishing praise on that dancer, telling them how amazing they are.  Seriously? Is that what this dance, particularly in the vein of that which we call “tribal fusion”, become? A series of crowd-pleasing movements set to electronica or neo-Balkan brass? I certainly hope NOT.

I ask of you, dear readers, that the next time you find yourself out at a bellydance show, ask yourself, “is this performer really dancing, or are they relying on their tricks?”  And a few tricks are fine, and some take great skill (balancing and layering, for example), but don’t let yourself be tricked by the tricks.  Each of us has so much to say when we’re on stage, and I believe that we must start saying it, even if that means that we won’t be as “impressive” to the layman viewer.  Dance is not a series of tricks set to music. It is moving art, and moving art can also be dynamic entertainment.

Why am I writing this post?  To tell you about the performances that I loved, the ones that inspired me, and the ones that I believe signal a sea change in the world of tribal and tribal-inspired bellydance.  Here are the performances that stood out in my mind because they were authentic, didn’t follow trends, and were clearly heartfelt.  They were also well-executed with clean technique, and of course, had artistic integrity.

American Tribal Style bellydance: FatChance BellyDance.
They are the reason we’re all here, right?  Video forthcoming.

Tribal style bellydance:  Awalim Dance Company.
Awalim, headed by Ziah Ali and based in Atlanta, Georgia, is an excellent example of a fun, technical, and energetic tribal dance company.  Ziah, along with company members Teejei and Kate, presented a fantastic and entertaining set with no gimmicks, no props, and accomplished finger cymbal playing.

Tribal style bellydance: Zafira Dance Company.
This trio blends classic bellydance, tribal influences, and creative staging.  They are one of the troupes who make the “old-timey” look-and-feel work, because they believe wholeheartedly in it, and it’s clearly a style that fits everyone in the company.  Video forthcoming.

Tribal fusion: Sera and the Solstice Ensemble.
What can I say about Sera other than that she is an artist in her own right.  She has always been an innovative, heartfelt performer with clean technique and a vision, a vision of dance as art and as moving sculpture.  Sera and her ensemble, based in New York city, always present moving sets, and this year’s performance at Tribal Fest made me cry with its power, precision, creative staging, and honesty.

Tribal fusion: The Uzumé.
Based in Holland, the Uzumé presented a creative and modern dance-inspired duet.  I didn’t catch them live, but after watching the video of their performance, I’m quite sad that I missed it.

Tribal fusion: Daniela.
I’ve been watching soloist Daniela, from Florida, for over a year.  She’s always been an elegant and polished performer, but I think that her Tribal Fest performance this year signaled a maturation in her style and performance quality.  She blends classic cabaret with the poise and strength of American Tribal Style bellydance, and very importantly, she is unique.  No one else in the tribal bellydance scene dances like she does.  In addition, her technique is impeccable, and if you aren’t smiling after watching her smile during her performances, then… um… I’m not sure what to tell you.

Tribal fusion: Natalie Brown.
OK, I’m biased.  This girl is a dear friend of mine, but I have to say that even if I weren’t, her performance would still have been one of my favorites.  She has always had wonderful extension, elegance, and musicality, but she brought her dance up a notch (or two) with this performance, adding intense emotion and more advanced technique. She is one to watch.

Bellydance fusion: Shoshanna.
I’ve been a fan of this lyrical bellydancer since I started dancing back in 2000.  She danced with her signature prop, the four-yard veil, at Tribal Fest this year, and she shows us how to tame and become one with what’s often an unruly length of silk.  As you’re watching this, pay attention to her feet; they’re always so elegantly pointed!

Dance fusion: Shakra.
These fellow DC-area dancers and I joked that last year at Tribal Fest, all of us from the DC area were angry.  This year, we decided to do something different.  Shakra, Hilary and Na’la, performed the entirety of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”, and rocked it.  Video forthcoming.

Were you at Tribal Fest?  What about other recent bellydance events?  Who do you think are the up-and-coming dancers in the tribal and fusion world?  Let me know who your favorites were… and let’s avoid talk about who you didn’t like.  I do believe in constructive criticism, but it should be reserved for less public forums than this blog.

Recently tribal fusion bellydancers have adopted a new kind of “vintage” look, using costuming elements inspired by the late 1800s to early 1900s, incorporating lace, ruffles, frilly skirts, and “Granny” boots.  This style also incorporates the use of Balkan Romany (Gypsy) music, carnival and circus themes, as well as Vaudeville and sometimes burlesque.  This trend is everywhere in tribal fusion right now, not only in the United States, but it appears that it has made its way to Europe and beyond.  And, I have to say, that I wonder if this new style that has taken the tribal fusion dance world by storm is even tribal style anymore.  And what are we conveying to the general public and those who know nothing about bellydance through the use of these vintage elements?

On my travels I’ve seen several troupes attempting this “vintage fusion” style of bellydance… but they’re incorporating props and costuming that I find somewhat inappropriate in a bellydance, particularly a “tribal” bellydance, context.  I wonder if these troupes and dancers have reflected on their choreographies, or prop, costuming, and music choices, and have they considered what someone completely ignorant about bellydance (especially tribal) might think of our dance style as a whole after seeing one of their “vintage fusion” performances.

I’d like to caveat this post by saying that when done well, “vintage tribal fusion” is beautiful and captivating.  There are several troupes who perform “vintage tribal fusion” elegantly and professionally.  The Indigo, Zafira Dance Company, Delirium Tribal Bellydance Company, and the Mezmer Society/Onça all pull in vintage and antique elements into their costuming, music, and dance artfully and tastefully.  I also like to break out ruffles and lace once in a while.  I have nothing against what I call “vintage fusion” tribal bellydance.

Aspects of “vintage fusion” that strike me as odd…

One element that I’ve seen often is the use of wine and whiskey bottles, sometimes empty… sometimes not.  Now, I have nothing against having a drink.  What does bother me, though, is when dancers, especially inexperienced ones, are on stage pretending to (or actually) getting drunk and stumbling around on stage.  From what I have observed, only very experienced and serious dancers can really pull off the use of wine bottles and alcohol in their performances.  It takes a certain amount of technical and performance skill to be able to pull that off without looking like a fool.  Otherwise the performance can look haphazard, lazy, and unprofessional.

Another element that I find a little bit odd is the wearing of undergarments on the outside as part of the costuming itself, such as frilly panties and bustiers.  Maybe I’m “old school”, but my mentors told me that even though our costuming might be revealing at times, we should never wear anything that still looks like underwear.  It seems to me that the resurgent interest in burlesque has influenced this trend, and I have nothing against burlesque… but I often wonder what someone new to bellydance might think if they saw a troupe in underwear-like costuming.  They’d probably wonder, “what does this have to do with the Middle East, and what does it have to do with bellydance?”  If I didn’t know anything about bellydance except that it’s something I’d seen at a Middle Eastern restaurant, I would probably be very, very, confused.

Something else I’ve noticed amongst the less successful attempts at “vintage” style bellydance performances is that there has been more emphasis on the comedy, acting, and slapstick than the dancing itself.  Again, I have nothing against theater or comedy… but if you’re going to call yourself a tribal style bellydancer, please make tribal style bellydance the primary element of your performance. The playful, flirty quality often found in “vintage fusion” isn’t very tribal, if we’re using American Tribal Style bellydance as our standard of what defines Tribal style bellydance.  Posing and being cute with a wine bottle isn’t tribal, and it’s not bellydancing.  Dance first… then add the theater once you have a good foundation in bellydance. So, if you’re going to play with “vintage fusion” bellydance, be aware that what you are doing might not be tribal anymore.  It might be something entirely new and different.  And please focus on the dance first.

From the point of view of the outsider…

What if someone from the general public came to see one of these performances?  What if this person knew nothing about bellydance?  Do we want to give the general public the impression that we’re only comic relief and slapstick acts that have no qualms about showing our frilly panties to strangers, particularly as we lose (or pretend to lose) our inhibitions through the imbibing of alcohol on stage?  Is that bellydance, and, more importantly to me, is that tribal?  And, I know that many of us bellydancers are trying very hard to elevate this dance into the realms of both popular and high art… and in order for that to happen, we must earn the respect of not only our peers but also the general public.  How do we expect to be respected as an art form when we’re stumbling around on stage in our underwear?

The importance of training and self-reflection.

As an artist and dancer I’m not against experimentation and pushing the boundaries of bellydance.  I have been fusing bellydance with other dance and movement influence for years.  I am, however, passionate about fusion with integrity. What that means to me is that in order for your artistic experimentation to be successful, you must spend time in the studio training, drilling, and focusing on the dance.  If you want to continue to call yourself a tribal style bellydancer, you must make your primary focus tribal style bellydance, not acting, slapstick, comedy, costuming, props, or music.  Also, as you’re preparing a performance, take the time to reflect on it and ask yourself, “What message am I giving the audience by dancing to this music in this costume with these movements?  Is that something I want to convey?  Why am I putting these influences together in the way that I am?”  It’s also completely acceptable to have a good time on stage.  So much of why we dance is because we find joy in it, but there is much joy to be found in the dancing itself, and you don’t need a frilly costume and a bottle of wine to enjoy it.

I’ve reposted this entry because it seems to be one of my most popular.  And, I’d like to hear from you what you think of my pontifications.  Do you think the characteristics I’ve identified hold true?  What do you see as the defining characteristics of tribal bellydance?

“The Trouble with Tribal (Fusion)” (below the cut).

The Trouble with Tribal (Fusion)

I think tribal belly dance is going through a bit of a crisis right now. The problem? So many new dancers and so little definition of tribal’s identity. With the explosion of soloists dressing up like The Indigo and posting videos of themselves on YouTube, I feel like these dancers don’t know where their roots lie. With so many dancers out there without the resources or instructors to learn American Tribal Style (ATS)–the root of “tribal fusion bellydance”–I see the misconceptions and innocent ignorance going global. Dancers without access to ATS classes will call themselves “tribal fusion” and yet despite their costuming, they dance like oriental/cabaret dancers. It’s like watching a hip hop performance by a dancer in a ballet tutu… and calling herself a ballerina.

• Arms and hands: floreos (ATS-style), high elbows, and strong ATS (flamenco-inspired) arms.
• Upper body posture: A lifted chest, using the muscles in the upper back. A relaxed upper body is more casual, less stylized, and, frankly, more oriental/cabaret.
• Use of classic American Tribal Style steps, integrated into a routine and not just thrown in to fulfill the “tribal” requirement.
• Open facial expression. True ATS dancers smile. Tribal fusion doesn’t require a frown.
• A sense of grounding into the floor. Tribal is inherently earthy.

Note that “locking”, “popping”, and “ticking” are not mentioned. These are breakdance/hip hop movements that many tribal fusion dancers have integrated into their performances. These robotic and staccato movements are not essentially tribal, nor are they essentially belly dance. I have seen many cabaret and oriental dancers integrate these movements into their performances, and yet they still remain essentially cabaret because they lacked the other above mentioned characteristics. Popping, locking, ticking, and strobing are part of the “fusion” of “tribal fusion bellydance.” I’m surprised at how many people I encounter who believe that these are essential to tribal style bellydance.

This also goes for the recent “vintage” trend that is so hot right now (and when done tastefully, can be stunning!). Neo-Victorian/Edwardian/Roaring 20s/burlesque-inspired costuming does not make a dancer “tribal fusion.” As beautiful as the costuming may be, it, in and of itself, is not essentially tribal.

A costume does not make a dancer tribal. If a costume made a dancer “cabaret”, then Carolena Nericcio’s performance in San Francisco Beledi would be cabaret… and when you see this performance, it’s SO tribal. (I wish I could find a screen capture online, but I’m not finding one.)

There are a few things that I feel like should be left out of a “tribal fusion bellydance” performance because I feel that they are contrary to the essence of American Tribal Style. These, of course, are only my personal opinions:

• Cabaret facial expressions
• Lifting the hair with the hands
• Suggestive movements such as wide hip circles a la Dina.
• Wild shoulder shimmies. ATS dancers do perform shoulder shimmies, yet they are subtle and “quiet”.

Lastly, I believe that anyone who calls themselves a “tribal fusion bellydancer” absolutely MUST have studied with authentic American Tribal Style instructors. In this, I would expect anyone who calls themselves “tribal fusion” would be able to dance with others who know American Tribal Style and perform a decent group improvisation. If you’ve never studied American Tribal Style, what are you doing calling yourself tribal fusion?